The Boy blushed at once. "I beg your pardon," he murmured; "I——"
"Is my hair coming down?"
The Boy looked fixedly again at a large black bow which, as he told me afterwards, "held the bight of it up." "No-o," he said slowly.
"Then don't stare at it, and don't lag behind. What was I saying?"
"You asked me how long leave I'd got."
"I didn't—you've told me that, and anyhow I've forgotten. I was going to ask you if this is the first time you've done any war-work."
"Yes, I was out in the Straits till last Thursday week, and——"
"Don't be silly. I mean work like this, digging and doing without things, and helping, and so on."
"Yes, I suppose it is. I haven't had time, really——"
The lady turned on him in righteous scorn. "Time—oh, you're one of the worst I know. Won't you ever take the war seriously? You just look on it all as a joke, and you won't make any sacrifices. Now come here—take the other end of this string, and lay it out till I tell you to stop."